“His name will be Shah. My son, a king among men! And a real one! Not like the coward we bow to now!” Aasif had chosen a name. Shekiba could see the spite in his choice. When he mentioned Habibullah his jaw clenched in a way that made Shekiba shudder. She fretted as she stirred the litti. Gulnaz had tried to make some but had filled the house with thick smoke instead. Gray soot clung to the once-white ceiling.
Shekiba was not pleased with her son’s name. She had secretly hoped to name him Ismail, after her father, but she knew she would not be as successful as Gulnaz in this battle. So his name was Shah and on the sixth day, they celebrated his birth with a prayer and halwa.
As the days passed, Shekiba became terrified. There were too many pats on the back, heartfelt embraces of congratulations, baskets of sweets sent to their house. She worried about nazar, that their good fortune would be cursed by someone with a jealous eye. Her king sleeping peacefully, she fired the espand seeds and wafted their protective powers over him.
Nazar was not the only danger. Shekiba remembered what she had seen Dr. Behrowen doing in the palace and boiled everything that came near the baby. She boiled his clothes, even the evil eye that she had pinned to his tiny blanket. She scrubbed her breasts raw before she let him nurse. Her fears multiplied when Aasif came home shaking his head.
“What is it?” she asked. “Has something happened?”
Aasif was cordial with her these days, engaging in conversations as his first wife listened bitterly from her room down the hall.
“It’s that damn illness again, sweeping across the villages. Even in Kabul.”
“What illness?” Shekiba asked, suddenly alarmed. Shah was only three weeks old. Instinctively, she pulled her swaddled baby closer to her.
“Cholera. Maybe you’ve never heard of it. It’s a powerful disease. God help whoever it strikes. I’ve heard that at least twenty families in Kabul are sick with it. The doctors can’t do anything about it.”
Shekiba knew better than anyone else just how powerful cholera could be. Her back stiffened.
“We mustn’t let the baby get ill,” she said, her voice quivering. Panic was setting in.
“Don’t you think I know that? Just take good care of him and keep him inside. You’re his mother so it’s up to you to keep him from getting sick!”
Shekiba’s mind flew back to her village, watching her siblings waste away in a corner of their rank home. Thinking of her mother, broken at the sight of her dead children, Shekiba boiled, washed and prayed fiercely.
Please, God, don’t let anything happen to my little boy. He’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever had. Please do not take him away!
And when the cholera wave passed, there was time for Shekiba to think of new dangers. She would not let the baby near the kitchen and kept him away from anything made of glass. She surrounded him with pillows and did not take her eyes off him. It was clear she did not trust Gulnaz to watch him. What if he broke his leg and walked with a limp? What if he was hit and lost an eye? Shekiba could hear the names, the teasing, a crestfallen little boy. She wanted better for her son.
“You know, I have managed to care for Shabnam reasonably well this past year. I think I am capable of holding a baby! What is it with you? What do you think I’m going to do? Drop him from a window?”
“I’m just… I’m just nervous. Don’t be offended, please. It’s just that I don’t want anything to happen to him.” Shekiba turned away so she wouldn’t see the angry look on Gulnaz’s face.
Shah changed every dynamic in the house, even for his half sister. When Shabnam waddled toward Shekiba, Gulnaz was quick to pull her back, and if she caught Shabnam eating something Shekiba had prepared, she would hold a hand in front of the baby’s confused mouth and make her spit it out. But only when Shekiba was watching.
It hurt Shekiba to see Shabnam yanked away from her. She loved the little girl as much as she could love any child that was not her own. And Shabnam, who had grown up with two mothers, did not understand why one was now off-limits. She looked at Shah with suspicion, as if she knew he had disrupted her happy home.
Aasif made the situation worse. Gulnaz no longer joined them for dinner, always making some excuse about Shabnam needing to eat or sleep. Aasif, having just proudly celebrated his son’s fortieth day, hardly noticed that his first wife had retreated into her room for over a week. What he did say to Gulnaz only made her more resentful of Shekiba.
“Long overdue, but worth the wait. Look at my son! Look at the healthy color in his cheeks! He’s a lion, my son!”
Gulnaz, listening from her room, bit her tongue, thankful that her daughter was not yet aware of her father’s partiality.
“Nam-e-khoda. May evil eyes stay away,” Shekiba murmured nervously as she looked at her fingernails, another superstition she had picked up from one of her uncles’ wives, though she couldn’t remember which one.
Gulnaz nearly laughed. An evil eye could hardly find its way to Shah, with all the talismans and prayers and espand that Shekiba used in the house. It occurred to her then that Shekiba was probably worried about her. She thought on it for a moment and realized it made sense. That was why she wanted to keep Gulnaz away from her precious son!
And so Gulnaz retaliated. She showered Shah with compliments, purposely not invoking the name of God.
How plump his cheeks have gotten! How quickly he’s learned to roll over! He’ll be walking before you know it, Shekiba-jan.
How well he nurses! He’ll grow up to be bigger and stronger than his father! And look at how alert and curious he is!
Shekiba was frenzied. She knocked on wood, burned espand and prayed even more. She tried to downplay the compliments as quickly as they came.
Oh, it’s just today. Yesterday he barely wanted to nurse at all. I don’t think he’s gained any weight in the last couple weeks. He feels so light when I lift him.
You don’t see how skinny his legs are? He’ll probably end up short and bowlegged, at the rate he’s eating.
Animosity simmered as Shekiba slowly realized what Gulnaz was up to. Frustrated, she decided to turn the game around. They sat in the courtyard, giving the children some sunlight while Shekiba hung the laundry on a clothesline. Gulnaz was watering the flowers.
“Just look at Shabnam! She’s walking as if she’s been doing it for years! I bet she could run right across Kabul with those strong legs!”
Shekiba watched Gulnaz’s mouth open slightly and her eyes widen. She mumbled something incomprehensible in return.
“Coo coo! Coo coo!” Shabnam called out, her word for the canaries.
“Yes, my little one, coo coo is there,” Gulnaz said without turning around.
“Coo coo! Coo coo!”
The two mothers turned around and saw only two yellow birds flitting about the cage. Gulnaz walked over, her head cocked to the side.
“Where is the other? How could he have gotten…” Her voice trailed off as she neared the cage. “Oh no!”
“What is it?” Shekiba said as she walked over. Gulnaz’s eyes were wide.
“He’s dead.”
The feathered creature lay lifeless on the floor of the cage while his roommates huddled close to one another and chirped softly. Both women were silent. The omen did not go unnoticed.
We’re just like Aasif’s mother, Shekiba thought with a sigh. Making daggers of words.